


Redemption at last?

by Thecajunmermaid



Category: Arthur Morgan - Fandom, Red Dead Redemption, Western - Fandom
Genre: Gen, red dead redemption - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecajunmermaid/pseuds/Thecajunmermaid





	Redemption at last?

~Dutch has a plan, dutch always has some sort of plan. All these jobs and still we never have enough money for the gang to settle down. Sometimes I want to question him, but I know it wouldn’t be the best idea. My downfall is I am to loyal to the man. He might have took me in and raised me, but lately he has been changing. Ever since Blackwater. What ever happened on that boat, Dutch never been the same. ~  
Arthur finished the entry in his journal and began to finish the small drawing he started. He thought about John’s words about running away and settling down, but Arthur could never. He was to loyal to Dutch and being an outlaw was bred i to him. He could never be a rancher. He also could never start a family, not after what happened to Isaac and his mother. Both of them deserved better than to be shot for ten dollars. He wasn’t around and he should have been but he never loved her. Arthur still loved mary and honestly he would never get over her.Also, he could never love another woman like he loved mary. 

He placed the journal in his jacket pocket and walked towards his horse. He needed to rid out to Rhoudes for a bounty job for the sheriff. One of Dutch’s scams to get in with the law men.Maybe when your mother is finished mourning your father... I'll keep her in black, on your behalf.”  
MORGAN TO ARCHIE DOWNES. The son of the man who gave Arthur his tuberculosis after Arthur nearly beat to death to recover a debt owed to the gang. The gang and it’s leader Dutch was Arthur’s downfall. He gave everything to it. His blood, sweat, and eventually life. Dutch took him in as a kid and called him a son, but in the end would leave him for dead.

It was a grim and hard future for the outlaw, but that was the west. It treated the moral and decent farmer the same as the criminal, hard and unforgiving. Nothing in this life was easy nor guaranteed, except death. Live fast and hard, for tomorrow you might be shot in the back, or mauled by a 1000 pound grizzly. Something Arthur hoped to avoid while he was out hunting. It not only gave him an escape from harsh gang and camp life, but allowed him to clear his head. It was a bitter sweet thing. Often times he wondered if John was right. If they all should just take the money and ride off to start a ranch, but Arthur was to loyal to Dutch. A loyalty that ultimately kills him.

Arthur took his journal out as he sat on his brown and white splashed horse and jot down a few things. He even added a few more lines to the drawing of a deer he had started. The cowboy was waiting for the sun to set a little bit before tracking the few deer he noticed off the road.

Arthur stuffed a bit of chewing tobacco in his lip In ordered to keep him awake and focused. He clicked and lightly pulled on the reins for the horse to follow the path towards the woods. 

After the betrayal with dutch, who left him to die on a cliff with his tuberculosis, Arthur almost gave up and gave into death.

“Of all things to kill me out here,I get consumption. All from doing a collection on a debt for the gang.” Arthur lay on the cliff looking out over the valley below and let out a sarcastic chuckle. His chest burning and he fought everything he had not to cough. The outlaw was Betrayed and left to rot on this cliff, alone. That was his fate and karma hit him hard. Even if he tried to make things right in the end, the life of crime of violence caught up to him. Soon he would meet his maker and get thrown in that lake of fire that that drunk preacher rambled about.

As he was about to close his eyes, a white tail buck rushed through the trees startling him. Arthur sat up and pointed his colt towards the noise. In doing so, a gold pocket watch tumbled out of his duster pocket. It was something he had stolen off a feller a couple days ago in valentine. 

Arthur picked up the watch and slowly stood to his feet. As he went to look it over, The cold air whipped a sharp pain in his lungs and the motion caused him to cough violently. Blood trickled in his hand and in the watch as he cursed to himself. Arthur wiped the watch on his dusty blue jeans and in doing so, he pressed the strange buttons along the side. His body was violently teleported into darkness. The cowboy then fell out of the inside of a tree and on to the dark forest floor. He tired to figure out what just happened, but he was caught off guard with another coughing fit. This caused him to linger on the ground longer than he intended. He spat the blood out on the grass as he slowly stood to his feet. “What in the hell?” His face contorted in to confusion as he looked over the watch and his new surroundings. This place was nothing like the woods he was just by, nor this watch, or the experience he just went through like anything. He placed his gun back in its holster and glanced around to try and make a path through the darkness. He fell over and passed into darkness.

Hell was hot. Not only was Arthur not sold a bad bill of goods on this information from the preacher in the gang, but the feller forgot to mention the other torments that would accrue while roasting for eternity. All the things Arthur done in his life. All the crimes and immoral things replayed over and over in his head.

The train robberies, the beatings he dished out, and the people he killed. He tried to make it right in the end, but it wasn’t good enough to redeem his soul. Arthur succumbed to the tuberculosis he contracted from a man he almost beat to death in front of his family for a debt he owed. He tried to make it right with the widow and the boy in the end, but it wasn’t enough to save his tainted soul. 

Another memory bleed through the many others of the time, the memory of when he let a blood a sucking creature live. At the time he didn’t believe it was a real monster, but only figured it was some twisted man. They had plenty of those back in his time.

The spirit of Bela Lugosi and Nosferatu lived on in the gloomy backstreets of Saint Denis.

He tracked down the bloodsucking beast by finding graffiti in five locations around Saint Denis. It seemed like the vampire had a taste for delinquency as well as hemoglobin, because the scrawling were scattered all around the city. The myth was the thing was hoarding a heap of gold as well as some nifty weapons. The outlaw was not afraid to go in guns blazing after the thing, but instead of killing the blood sucker, it bargained for its life with blood money and a special 1600th century gun and knife set. It calmed it was the only thing to kill the beast and offered it to Arthur if he would just leave it be. Arthur didn’t believe in all that hocus pocus mess, but he did believe in getting a good deal, so he took the money and weapons and left creature alive. 

Unknowing to him, the thing was really what It claimed to be and would go on killing for eternity. Only now while the cowboy roasted did he find this out. Another regret notched on his gun belt.

~flashback

Good deed but with a price

“You got to let me out of here mister!” A man yelled from under a gun store as Arthur walked by.  
“He keeps me locked down here, and does stuff! He is crazy! Please.” The man begged the outlaw. Arthur sighed deeply. He was rather busy and didn’t want to get in to trouble in this town, but the poor soul sounded desperate, plus if was a gun store. He could use a few more boxes of ammo and maybe a new gun or two.

“Fine, keep it down.” Arthur barked. He didn’t know what in the hell was going on, just some one needed help and it would benefit him.  
Arthur walked in,slowly raising his mask as he did. He didn’t want to get recognized or have a bounty on him. He locked the door and raised the gun.  
“Don’t bs me around. Give me the da&8n loot .” Arthur yelled as he looked around to were he could get in the basement. The shop owner scrambled to do as he was told.  
“The door, open it.” Arthur yelled.  
“Please no...” the man cried.  
He pistol whipped the man letting him know he wasn’t messing around.  
The man opened the door and walked down the basement crying and begging.

“Thank god mister.” The young man cried.  
Arthur shot the chains that bound the man who was dressed like a toddler. “I lost my son...please don’t take him.” The store owner cried. With disgust, Arthur knocked the man out. He didn’t feel like waiting a bullet on the sicko. He needed to grab his lot and get out before someone came snooping. “Get out of here will ya!” He yelled and started pocketing ammo. He then grabbed a repeater rifle and ran out. 

He quickly saddled his horse and rode out of town before the law caught him.

Mid way between the licking flames and poking demons, Arthur was mid way through an old memory. More regrets and heart ache was in store for the once but now forgotten-outlaw.  
Just as the memory was about to climax, Arthur was yanked out of hell. His soul flung with force upwards and through a misty haze.  
“What new tournament is this?” He grumbled waiting for a ugly demon to jump out and offer a false freedom. It had to be more torment in store. 

The cowboy peered around, his soul glowing faintly and clear almost see through. The looks of it, it was a strange room. A rundown one with various trash laying around. This wasn’t a memory. These things Arthur had never seen before in his old western life, so what in the literally hell was this?


End file.
